


whither you go, I will go

by Lise



Category: Doctrine of Labyrinths - Sarah Monette
Genre: Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Bashing, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Incest, M/M, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, but like...relatively mild, everyone here is emotionally fucked up, issues. everywhere issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 02:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18420981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Felix makes bad choices, and Mildmay takes drastic measures to fix them.Or: the one where Mildmay has sex with Felix to keep him from getting himself murdered on the way to Esmer.





	whither you go, I will go

**Author's Note:**

> So uh. I could make a bunch of excuses or I could just go straight into the "look, I'm not sorry and I'm not going to pretend to be sorry, at least mostly, sometimes the fucked up incest happens and you just have to go with it." 
> 
> Anyway what I'm saying is: enjoy. But like. Do recognize that there's dubious consent here: the consent is _there_ but it's not exactly for the best reasons. 
> 
> Thanks to my [beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) for all her hard work and to everyone on my Tumblr who is putting up with my toppling back into a small book fandom head over heels. Speaking of said Tumblr: [come say hi.](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com) I'm always hungry for more people to talk to me about this series.

It felt absurd - worse than that, obscene. I was in exile for destroying the mind of a man. My lover had been murdered (never mind that he had not been my lover at the time). I had escaped being put to death, in spite of myself, and a bleak future stretched out ahead of me, with an uncertain fate at the end of this journey.

And yet, to be as bluntly crude as it deserved, I wanted someone to fuck. 

The desire itched at me, a nagging presence at the back of my mind that only grew. Sharing a room with Mildmay made it difficult to impossible to take care of myself, and I didn’t think it would satisfy the need anyway. I wanted something more, something sharper and more dangerous, and naturally the more I dwelled the more consuming it became. I could hear myself growing ever more snappish with Mildmay, his weary tolerance deeply exasperating. 

In other circumstances I might have simply slipped away in one of the inns along the road and found myself a companion, but the tenor in this drab country was such that if I made the wrong assumption I would likely face worse than rejection.

Then again, I thought, it was just possible I didn’t care. 

Another long and miserable day, the prospect of another night in a tiny room with only Mildmay for company, and I was restless and irritable and tired of self-denial. I’d been trying all day to pick a fight with Mildmay, without success, and at that instant there was some satisfaction in doing something I knew he would think was stupid. 

“Where’re you going,” he said, when after shedding my coat I turned to leave our room.

“Downstairs,” I said. “I’d like some time to myself.” I kept myself by an inch from the cruelty that would have said _away from you._

Mildmay shifted his weight. “Dunno if that’s,” he started to say, and I gave him an unpleasant smile. 

“A good idea?” I said. “Darling, _please._ What kind of trouble is it, exactly, you think I’ll get into?” 

“Not sure,” he said, “but I ain’t keen on finding out.” 

Anger flared up in my chest. “For certain you’ll find out if I must stay pent up with you any longer,” I said icily. “I’m off to seek out better company.” Mildmay flinched, and I turned on my heel. “Don’t tag along, darling,” I added, leaning on the obligation d’âme, and closed the door firmly behind me. 

* * *

I realized quickly that I had left the purse in the room with Mildmay. I was not about to go and retrieve it; there were a few coins in my pockets that were just enough to purchase myself the cheapest drink on the menu, and it tasted it. 

Then I went fishing.

I knew how to draw men’s attention to me. I knew how to draw people’s attention to me in general, and I had an advantage in as much as many of the inn occupants were already looking at me: my hair, as usual, marked me out. I set myself at a table and watched who stared, who looked away, who pretended I wasn’t there at all. 

And one man who kept glancing at me and then away, like he wanted to stop but couldn’t quite make himself. Some glimmer of sense reminded me that the tension in the way he held himself could mean any number of things, but it _was_ only a glimmer.

Before I could decide how to best make my approach, though, he came over to me, standing over my table. I looked him over, decided he’d do, and raised my eyebrows. 

“Good evening,” I said. “Can I help you with something?” 

He shifted, glanced over his shoulder. “You here on your own?” 

I blinked, then smiled a bit. “I don’t have other company, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

He grunted at the back of his throat, and seemed to be trying to work up the nerve for something. I felt my lips twitch, vaguely entertained, and stood, leaving my cup on the table. There were times when it paid to be subtle. And there were times when it didn’t. 

“Rather,” I said, taking a small step in his direction and lowering my voice, “I came here hoping to find some. I don’t suppose you could assist me with that, could you?” 

He twitched and took a sharp breath in, and I watched his throat work. Then he jerked his head and said, “outside.” 

It wasn’t exactly romance. A part of me felt a little dirty, briefly, a little - _whoreish,_ but I shook it away. I couldn’t exactly claim to have high standards at the moment.

And an illicit outdoor liaison was probably better than fucking your lover’s murderer. I didn’t want to think. I would take the roughest, dirtiest coupling if it meant clearing my head of the growing poison in it.

I followed him outside. It was cold, not terribly comfortable, but if his shame demanded it, I was willing to accommodate. He turned toward me, and I had time enough to realize the look on his face before he punched me in the mouth. 

I wasn’t ready for it. I stumbled back, catching myself against the side of the building, for a moment frozen and wide-eyed. I’d seen the violent disgust in his eyes before, but not _recently,_ and yet in that second it felt as though it had been no time at all and I was still exactly what I had been then. 

I tried to scramble away, but too late; he grabbed my hair and yanked me back, throwing me down and kicking me in the stomach. “Whore,” he snarled, and I curled up in instinctive fear, covering my head and face and trying to roll away from his blows. That only meant that his next kick drove into my back, sending a shock of pain up my spine that forced a yelp out of my throat. “Filthy violet _,_ trying to pervert decent folk–”

Instinct told me to remain still and not tense and wait for it to be over. 

My eyes squeezed closed, all I heard was an awful _crack_ followed by a thud. It took me a moment to realize that I hadn’t felt it. I didn’t move, not until I heard, “Felix?” in a familiar voice touched with a mixture of anxiety and anger. Mildmay, come once again to rescue me; I supposed the command I’d given him ahd been loose enough to allow it. The thought was flavored bitter. “You okay?” 

I was going to be bruised. I could taste blood and my mouth throbbed from the punch to my face; there was an ache in the small of my back where he’d kicked me. But I’d had worse. All the same, my eyes prickled and I could feel myself shaking.

But I forced myself to uncurl and push myself up. “I’m fine,” I said, not looking at Mildmay, because I did not want to see the look on his face. I almost added _I know how to take a beating_ but I did not want to remind him, or myself, of that. 

“Let me see,” Mildmay said, and his touch as he turned my face toward him was gentle, though his expression was still tight with anger. I glanced at the man who had attacked me, laid out on the ground, and wondered briefly and a little wildly if Mildmay had killed him. 

I couldn’t really care if he had. 

Whatever he saw, Mildmay’s face darkened, but he let me go. “Come on,” he said. “Back to the room.” I balked, and he glanced at me, eyebrows drawing together.

“And walk back through there?” I said, hating the unsteadiness of my voice. 

“They ain’t gonna touch you,” Mildmay said, the flatness of his tone promising there would be consequences if someone tried. I swallowed, still skittish, but I could hardly stand here all night, waiting for my assailant to wake up. I nodded tightly. 

Even with my eyes lowered as we walked through the common room to the stairs, I could feel people looking at me. A surge of anger rose abruptly, and I forced my head up, making myself walk evenly as though I was utterly without shame, as though my bruised face and bloodied mouth did not matter. But once securely behind the door,, I dropped onto the bed. 

“Gonna to get some stuff to clean you up,” Mildmay said, after a few moments of silence in which I did not look at him. When he left, I stood and went to the bathroom to examine my face. It didn’t look as bad as it felt, but I was still going to look as though I had been on the wrong side of a brawl.

_Stupid._ I was lucky it hadn’t gone further. That Mildmay, no doubt alerted by the obligation d’âme, had arrived as quickly as he had. It could have been much worse, and I should have known better.

I had known better, and done it anyway. 

The door opened and I whirled around, but it was only Mildmay with a rag and what looked like a salve. I eyed it, and Mildmay shrugged one shoulder. “Cook said it reduces swelling,” he said, and I didn’t ask how he’d persuaded her to give it to him.

I sat down on the bed and let him see to my bruises; let him coax me out of my shirt. I could feel his anger and kept my mouth shut.

Finally, he stepped back and said, “what the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

I blinked. “I should think it is abundantly clear what I was thinking,” I said dryly. With his scar, Mildmay’s scowl was a terrible thing.

“That ain’t what I meant and you know it. You know what they’re like in this country. You’ve seen how they look at you. And you went down and made a pass at the first person you see?”

I was almost relieved by the anger that sparked in my chest. “So I took a risk. Do you think I enjoy having you for my only company?” 

I knew it would hit home and it did, but Mildmay blazed ahead anyway. “ _Stupid_ risk. He could’ve killed you if he’d had a knife or I didn’t get there when I did.”

I laughed, deliberately sharp. “You love playing my rescuer, don’t you? Does it satisfy your need to feel useful?”

Mildmay flushed but didn’t budge. “Don’t do that again.” 

“You don’t command _me,_ ” I said. Mildmay’s jaw set. 

“You trying to get yourself killed?” Mildmay said, and if his voice was hard, there was fear there, too, but my own fear was rapidly burning off in favor of anger. I wasn’t sure, was the honest answer. Maybe I had been, a little. Maybe not. But that didn’t matter.

“It isn’t so easy for me as it is for you,” I snapped. “You can tumble any barmaid you want, but you expect me to remain celibate for the entirety of my exile?” Mildmay’s flush deepened and I added, viciously, “or are you offering to do something about it?”

His flinch gave me bitter satisfaction and stung me in equal measure. I knew how easy it must be to think of me as someone who would abuse my power over him. And yet knowing that he could see me as a rapist still twisted my stomach into knots. I stood and turned away from him. “It is none of your business where I should and should not seek out - companionship.”

“It is if it means you’re gonna wind up dead,” Mildmay said tightly, and I was sorely tempted to say _if I do, so be it._

I did not want a repeat of Mildmay’s screaming at me on the riverbank, however strangely reassuring it had been. 

Maybe some of it showed on my face, though, because Mildmay took a sharp breath and said harshly, “You want me to follow me everywhere you go?” 

“More than you already do?” I said, lip curling, and his shoulders hunched like I’d hit him. “I’ll do as I please,” I said, “and you can hardly stop me.”

His expression went blank, the way it did sometimes. Stony cold, and for a moment I thought he _would_ hit me, and almost held my breath waiting for it. Thinking that, on some level, it would be better than nothing.

Then he just said, “Yeah, okay.”

Taken utterly off guard, I stared at him. “What?” I said stupidly. 

He squared his shoulders and met my eyes squarely. “You need someone to fuck that bad? Okay. I’m–” His jaw shifted. “I’m offering.”

My mind went utterly blank. It felt a bit as though Mildmay had just informed me that he himself was a wizard, followed closely by the thought that he was baiting me. 

And upon that, the thought: _this is your chance._ I shied away, but could not wholly shake it off. I clung to the anger instead. 

“Don’t be melodramatic, darling,” I said. Mildmay’s mouth spasmed but he didn’t look away.

“M’not.” He shrugged one shoulder, but I could see how tense he was. “If it’s a choice between it being me or you risking your neck throwing yourself–”

“I’m not _throwing myself,_ ” I objected, indignant and entirely beside the point.

“--at people who might kill you for trying, then…”

“Then it might as well be you? What a _gallant_ self-sacrifice.” I started to step around him, but he moved to block me from the door.

“Where’re you going,” Mildmay said.

“I’m not going to listen to more of this,” I said, mostly because of the increasingly loud voice that said _he’s offering, isn’t this what you wanted,_ but it wasn’t, not really, not exactly. I had wanted Mildmay willing, not…

I could make him enjoy it. I would, bring all my training to bear and make his body sing, give him such pleasure that no woman he’d had before could match. I knew how to do that. I was good at it. I wanted, with sudden fierce desire, to go to him and take whatever he was willing to give. It would be so _easy._

I tried again to get around him to leave, without success. “Don’t go out there,” Mildmay said, his voice tight but touched with fear. Of me? If it was, I didn’t want to know. “It ain’t safe.” 

“Isn’t,” I said sharply. “And I don’t care. I prefer people not sleep with me out of pity, or fear, or whatever it is driving you to offer something you’ve made clear repels you. Let me out.” I could have used the obligation d’âme. I wasn’t certain why I didn’t.

Mildmay shook his head. “No.”

My breathing quickened. “Mildmay…”

He raised his chin and looked evenly at me, the picture of obstinacy for all the tension in his body, and I was abruptly furious, at him, for putting me in this position. For his assuming I would take advantage, that I would be so heedless of his wishes as to put my desire ahead of his disgust. 

_Fine,_ I thought viciously, my heart pounding in my stomach. _If that’s what you expect of me._

I stepped forward, took his face gently in my hands, and kissed him. 

I had once before, pretending it was necessary, and I remembered the feeling of his lips, the texture of his scar. One of Mildmay’s hands grabbed my wrist and tightened and I thought he would pull it away, or pull away, but he didn’t, and despite the strength in his fingers he wasn’t trying to hurt me. My heart beat faster and I kissed him more deeply, parted my lips and caressed down his neck to his shoulders where I could feel the texture of muscle under his clothes. He held very still, unmoving, and I broke away. My stomach was in knots, but the rest of me…

I wanted more. I wanted _him_ , and I should tear myself away and douse myself in cold water, run from this room that suddenly felt too warm and never come back. 

I didn’t. My heart was racing and I was breathing hard, but I could not move, frozen in place. 

“Is that what you wanted?” I said. My voice came harsh and grating. 

“S’it what you do?” Mildmay asked, still not moving, and I wanted to throw something at him. I wanted to pull him down on the bed, I wanted to go down on my knees in front of him and suck his cock, and I wanted to run before I touched him again. My body screamed simultaneously with desperate desire and self-disgust, utterly irreconcilable, and I was caught in-between. 

Mildmay took a step toward me and said lowly, “Felix,” and I was not a good enough person to continue fighting myself. But I needed to - I needed to say _something._

“If you tell me to stop I will,” I said, as though that could be any kind of reassurance, but I still wanted it to matter. I waited for him to nod and step forward, green eyes sharp and with a lurking wariness that twisted in me like a knife. I needed to set him at ease, somehow.

I reached out and drew him a step closer guiding him back against the wall, then slid down to my knees. I felt him tense, his eyes widening. “Please,” I said, the word almost exploding out of me. “Mildmay. Let me…”

I watched him swallow and held my breath, waiting. “Okay,” he said, and it wasn’t exactly enthusiastic but at least it was agreement, and if I showed him how good it could feel–

I didn’t finish that thought, dangerous as it was. I moved my hands instead to undo his pants and pull them down, leaning in as I did to trace the line of one of his hipbones with my tongue. I held myself back from rushing; everything needed to be perfect. I needed to be perfect. 

I felt a shudder run through him and did not look up to see what caused it. He hadn’t told me to stop, I thought. If he wanted me to - if he wanted me to, he would. He _would._

His skin was warm under my lips; my face felt like it was burning as I stripped off his underthings, my breathing catching in my throat as I took in his nakedness. I bit my lip, my sex stirring, lust growing in me like a flame, and a wild part of me wondered if I could stop even if Mildmay asked. I wanted to look up, to see his face, but I didn’t dare - feared that I would see only blank stone. 

I curled my hand around him instead, gently, keeping my touch soft and light. He started to harden in my hand and I heard him take a shaky breath in. I glanced up just briefly but his eyes were closed, his body taut. 

I shifted my hand just slightly to guide his sex to my mouth and drag the flat of my tongue over the head. I heard Mildmay make a muffled sound and he hardened further, swelling in my hand and the thrill that went through me was undeniable, almost dizzying. I’d dreamed about this before but my dreams were only a shadow of reality, and it was all I could do to hold back and move slowly. 

I parted my lips and sucked just the head of his cock into my mouth, drawing a circle with my tongue; Mildmay inhaled unevenly above me and wobbled like he might fall. I moved my hands quickly from holding his cock to his hips where I could better steady him, my fingers pressing into muscle as I drew more of him into my mouth, calling to mind everything I knew of giving pleasure. My heart pounded in my stomach, in my loins, and I wanted to reach down and touch myself but held back; this first. Him first. 

Somehow - somehow that made it better. 

I could hear Mildmay’s breathing growing shallower, the quiver as he tried to hold himself still, the thickening of his length in my mouth as I sucked lightly. _You don’t need to hold still,_ I thought. _You could grab my hair and fuck me with abandon and I wouldn’t care as long as you were touching me._

But he wouldn’t. Mildmay wouldn’t hurt me. Even when he should; even when I would deserve it.

I bobbed my head up and down and Mildmay’s faint groan rippled through me. My hips jerked unconsciously against nothing and I took my own unsteady breath through my nose; I pulled off him so I could lick all the way up his length and then swallow him down deeper, lifting my tongue and hollowing my cheeks to offer as tight a seal as I could. I could feel Mildmay shaking and moved faster, and if my whore’s training could be good for anything then let it be this. 

Finally, one of Mildmay’s hands fell on my head, resting there briefly before pulling away again, falling back into place. He didn’t push, but I reacted like he had, lunging almost greedily to swallow as much of his cock as I could take. I heard myself moan and flushed at how wanton it sounded, but the noise Mildmay made, a muffled groan and gasp mingled, was good enough to overwhelm my embarrassment. My body felt overheated and I was achingly hard; I could feel the tense-and-release, tense-and-release of his body that told me he was close to the edge and holding back.

_Let go,_ I wanted to say, _let me take you there,_ but I didn’t dare speak. All I dared do was keep my mouth on him until he couldn’t possibly contain himself anymore. 

I felt when he gave a moment before I tasted it, bitter and familiar on the back of my tongue. I didn’t pull away as much out of practicality as anything else; there would be enough of a mess as it was.

He pulled back almost before he was finished, though not roughly. I licked a bit of his seed off my lips and dared glance up again at his face, his green eyes wide and dark, flushed, beautiful. I could have moaned; I did sway, my cock throbbing. 

I saw him swallow and jerk his gaze away from me. “Bed,” he said, just the one word, half question and half command, and I staggered to my feet and the short distance to the bed, collapsing onto it and fumbling with stripping off my pants, my fingers clumsy. 

Mildmay replaced my hands with his, peeling my underthings away where they clung to skin with the evidence of my eagerness. I closed my eyes again, panting, my hips lifting toward his hands. He climbed onto the bed beside me and I twisted toward him, seeking his mouth, but he turned his face away from me.

Something twisted in my chest but I pushed it aside, and it evaporated entirely when Mildmay reached down and took my cock in his hand. The texture of his palm was rough, though he must have used spit to provide some lubrication, but his touch was gentle. I supposed I should not be surprised; he had almost always been that, with me. 

I moaned, bucking into his grip, and he hushed me. 

“You gotta,” he said, voice ragged, and then tried again. “Gotta stay quiet. Don’t want everyone here to know…”

He was right. I sunk my teeth into my lower lip and made myself nod. 

Mildmay’s strokes were a little too quick, a little too rough, but I couldn’t care; my need was enough that it probably would not have mattered what he did. I writhed and squirmed enough that he moved to pin me down. I started to cry out and he put a quick hand over my mouth; unthinking, I licked his palm and heard him take a sharp breath, his body tensing against mine. My heart battered against my ribcage and I held my breath, shaking.

When I came, I cried out into Mildmay’s muffling hand, and when I was finished I lay limp, sweaty, and spent, my eyes still closed. The silence was complete. I did not dare try to move, even if I thought I could. 

With my head clearer, the weight of what I’d done was beginning to fall down on me. I had sworn to Mildmay that I would never force him to fuck me. But I had, hadn’t I? Or - as good as. As near as it made no difference, maybe. 

I didn’t know what to say. What I could say. 

I heard Mildmay stir, finally, and pull away from me. “Gotta clean up,” he said, his voice rough and unreadable. I swallowed hard and made myself open my eyes, but all I could see was his back and his hair come half-undone from his braid. 

“Mildmay,” I said, my voice small. 

“It’s okay,” Mildmay said. His voice was flat, impossible to read, and I could not see his eyes to know what story they might tell.

_It’s not,_ I thought, _it’s not okay, we should talk about this,_ but I was a coward. The words died on my tongue. What else could I say? ‘Thank you?’ 

He turned around and looked at me, but I couldn’t hold his gaze. “Felix,” he said after a moment, and now he just sounded tired. “Told you. I offered. Just don’t…” He trailed off, and then said, “if you, um. Need anything. Don’t go looking like you did, all right? Just...tell me.” 

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I won’t,” I said, meaning both that I wouldn’t go looking, and I wouldn’t tell him. Even if some part of me was like after its first taste of phoenix, already looking for more. 

Could I really trust that I would not give in again? It would be so easy to take advantage. And I had never been good at resisting temptation. 

I hated myself for what I’d done. I wished dearly I could do it again. My mind kept telling me that I could make Mildmay like it. That he had, must have, that I could _convince_ him–

_He really should have let you drown._

Never again, I told myself. Never again.

( _Except for the next time. And the next. And the next._ )

It was a long way to Esmer.


End file.
